Benson & Stabler: Too Close
by Bensler
Summary: A collection of S11 post-eps attempt to explore the reciprocal emotional dependency between EO in which the loss of their interpersonal boundaries caused them to become so intermingled neither can be certain where he or she stops & the other begins.
1. Chapter 1 Unstable

**Wolf owns them all! Can't I just have one of them, Mr. Wolf. Please. How about that blue-eyed, hot-headed detective who is always giving Cragen a headache? Be happy to take him off your hands...what do you say? I _said_ please...**

**A collection of post-eps for season 11 that will attempt to explore the depth of the relationship between Olivia and Elliot; that reciprocal emotional dependency between them in which the loss of their interpersonal boundaries have caused them to become so intermingled neither can be certain where he or she stops and the other begins. All they know is that the other is an integral facet of their life, their very survival. **

_"Detectives Benson and Stabler have a degree of mutual reliance, an emotional dependence that compromises their effectiveness as police officers. They're too close". When Cragen asked her if she recommended he split them up she replied, "If you want to lose your two best detectives". __~ Dr. Rebecca Hendrix ~ __February 27, 2007_

**Benson & Stabler: Too Close **

**by Bensler**

**Chapter 1 ~ Unstable**

Standing at the double doors of the squad room, Olivia watched him. These last two weeks had been rough. Elliot's demeanor was more than proof of that fact. He was the portrayal of a tired, hopeless, defeated man. The Foster-Tate case has crushed him, beat him down. His physical appearance said it all. A haggard look had replaced the confidence; his once steely gaze, now avoided everyone's eyes; his shoulders slumped, and he had lost weight. He was withdrawn, quiet, docile even – the anger, the rage, gone. So unlike the man she had known for over ten years. Now when he shuffled into a room he was barely noticed, whereas before he arrived with a swagger, full of energy and a magnetism that boldly proclaimed his presence and demanded attention. Yet, he still came to work every day; did his job; spoke when spoken to; asked questions if necessary; nothing more, nothing less. Others may or may not have even noticed the change in him, but his partner did. Olivia knew he had given up.

Two weeks ago rapist, Mark Foster, had died in a fall from the men's room of the SVU squad room. Whether he had taken a dive on his own to avoid prison, or was tossed out by Detective Nate Kendal, would most likely never be known. Most saw Foster's death as justice served. He had confessed to a rape for which an innocent man, Victor Tate, had already spent ten years in prison. Elliot had been the lead detective on Tate's case and he was distraught to learn he had been responsible for helping to convict an innocent man. Upon Foster's confession, Elliot had gone to the prison, apologized to Tate, and told him he would soon be free.

When the new ADA, Sonya Paxton, informed Elliot that Foster's death meant that his confession was null and void, that Tate would have to serve the remaining fifteen years of his sentence, Elliot nearly lost it. He could not fathom having to tell Tate he would not be freed even though they had the real killer's confession on tape. It was not right. The system was screwed up. He was so distressed over it, he even begged Paxton, his nemesis, to tell him what to do; that he would even hire a lawyer to free him. Paxton told him he'd be wasting his money and that unless he knew the governor, there was nothing that could be done. Olivia had never seen him so desperate, bordering on the edge, almost unstable.

All efforts to get him to talk either to her or Huang, or someone fell on deaf ears. He was fine; he didn't need to talk to anyone, he insisted. She knew otherwise. One of her first cases had ended up with an innocent man, Eric Plummer, serving seven years before the fairly new advent of DNA testing cleared him. She had been devastated to know she had had a hand in sending him to prison. Upon his release, he sought revenge and murdered four innocent people, all previous cases headed up by Olivia. His actions and messages made it clear that he was out for Olivia. That situation had culminated in bad blood between her and Elliot because he put a protective detail on her even after she had declined it. It also ended with her first time of using deadly force. Not only had she been partially responsible for Plummer's wrongful incarceration, she had ultimately been the one to take his life.

So, she knew _exactly_ how Elliot felt. Putting on a smile, she approached his desk. "Hey. Almost time to blow this joint. I've been wanting to try that new Mexican place on the next block. How about it?"

She stared at him and his surroundings. His desk was in disarray, much like him. Papers stacked haphazardly; a myriad of folders spread across the desktop; empty soda cans and half-eaten packages of crackers littered the surface; innumerable pens with the tops chewed off were everywhere; stacks of files on the floor nearby – she wondered how he kept track of anything. His jacket hung on the back of his chair, his tie stuffed into its breast pocket. The pale green shirt rolled up to his elbows was quite crumpled. She puzzled at this because she knew Kathy had all his work clothes done at the dry cleaners. His eyes flitted to hers for a mere nanosecond, before he shook his head, and turned back to the computer screen.

"El, come on. I don't want to eat alone," she sighed, her right hand running through her hair.

Noticing his hesitation to answer, she knew he was being pulled in two directions. He did not want to go because he wasn't up to talking, yet he knew how she hated to eat alone and wanted to help her out.

Seizing the opportunity for her advantage, she leaned over, palms flat on the desktop and begged, "Please."

When he looked up, he nearly drowned in her liquid brown eyes and he knew he was had. He couldn't resist. Smiling just slightly, he nodded, "Okay."

Benson - one point.

During their meal there was very little conversation. And that was all right. The last six months or so they had slowly been getting the familiarity of their friendship back. This cocoon of silence was but one of the things she had so missed about them. The easy silence. The one that wrapped around them and sheltered them; the one where no words were spoken because none were necessary. All that mattered was that they were together. In the silence they connected, they rested, they healed, and they drew acceptance, understanding, and strength from one another. And yet they never said a word. There just were. And this was one of those old silences. She took pleasure in it.

The waiter left the bill and Elliot insisted on paying it. She argued, but not much. She realized this was but a small way he had opted to make a decision and assert himself, something he had not been doing the last two weeks. So, she let him pay. When the waiter returned with Elliot's credit card, he pulled it out, signed the slip then stood waiting for Olivia to do the same. They walked out together and she fully expected him to hail a cab. Instead, he turned to her and smiled.

"It's a nice night. Do you mind if we walk?" He seemed almost shy about asking her to walk.

"That'd be fine." She smiled and they turned toward her apartment.

There were quite a few people on the streets. It was dinner time, after all. They dodged in and out of the crowd and finally the crowd thinned out. Olivia sensed him looking at her and when she looked over at him, he grinned. She smiled back.

"Thanks for asking me to come." He gave her a lopsided smile.

When he did that he reminded her of a young boy hoping to get his way with his charm. She smiled to herself at the thought. "Thank _you_ for coming."

Nodding, he looked away and jammed his hands in his pockets. "Look…I know I've been…things have been…off…the last couple of weeks…and I appreciate all you've tried to do, but…" he trailed off.

The sounds of their footsteps slapping the concrete were in perfect sync. Olivia thought how odd that was given how disjointed their relationship had been lately. She wondered if he noticed the sound, too. When he didn't continue his line of thought, she picked it up.

"But? But what?" she prodded, watching their feet as they made their way down the sidewalk. They were nearly to her building.

Elliot stopped. She had taken another step when his hand caught her arm turning her toward him. "I…I can't do this anymore, Liv."

Eyes narrowing, her heart clenching, she searched his face. "You can't do _what_ anymore?"

Releasing a sharp huff of breathe, he chewed first on the inside of his cheek then ran his tongue over his bottom lip before biting on it. Finally, he looked into her eyes, his full of pain, desolation, and slight shimmering from tears that were building up despite his constant blinking. She had never seen him like this and intuitively knew that what he was going to say next would rip her heart from her possession.

"This. SVU. The job…I can't do it anymore."

"Elliot…"

"I put an innocent man in jail, Liv. I'm a joke." His breathing became ragged. "Foster was right. I shouldn't carry a badge."

"El, you are not a joke and Foster was a perv."

"I got the papers in my desk…"

"Papers?" Her heart was pounding against the frame of her body.

He nodded, "Yeah…there's a desk job open in Queens."

Silently, her world came crashing down and she could barely breathe let alone compose coherent sentences. She stared at him. The look on her face must have said what she couldn't because the tears in his eyes now flooded over and started their journey down his cheeks. Quickly his hands rose to his face to wipe them away.

"I-I'm sorry, Liv," he choked out.

Knowing she had to say something to change his mind, she cleared her mind and found her voice. "Elliot, don't do this. You quit, Foster wins."

"I just don't have it in me anymore. I can't keep doing this. It doesn't make any difference, Olivia. There are always gonna be perverts out there hurting people. No matter how many we lock up, there's always another one. I don't make any difference…" He wiped at a trail of fresh tears and turned away from her.

She laughed out loud. Here they are standing in the middle of a sidewalk in Manhattan having this heart-to-heart talk and she is laughing while he is crying.

"No difference? You didn't make a difference for Jackie Landricks? You helped her get her life back, Elliot. How about Tommy Ross? If it hadn't been for you, he never would have been tested for HIV and started meds. Ray Shenkel will never rape another young girl; neither will Gordon Rickett. And Li Mei…you helped find her sister's killer and freed her niece. The way little Tommy Keegan was so attached to you…Elliot, you've done a lot of good. More than you probably will ever know about. You _do_ make a difference."

She wanted to add 'what about me?' He had saved her more times than she could count and in more ways than just physically. He had saved her from herself and her own demons when she would have long ago succumbed to them and been completely lost.

"I-I don't know…I j-just…I just don't think I can live with knowing Victor Tate has got to spend fifteen more years in jail for something he didn't do."

"At least he's still alive," she mumbled.

Elliot looked down at her, knowing what she meant, suddenly sorry that he had caused her to dredge up painful memories of Eric Plummer. "How…how'd you come to terms with…uh…with Plummer?"

Her gaze remained locked in the distance for several seconds before she took a deep breath then slowly lifted her eyes to his. "I haven't."

They stared at each other for a long moment.

"Did you hear back from that attorney friend of Cragen's?" she asked, changing the subject.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah…this morning. Says there is nothing that can be done. The only way is to get the governor to pardon him."

"Then that's what we'll do," she told him. Grabbing his tie in her hand she jerked his head up to look at her. "You hear me, Stabler? Someway we'll get to the governor."

"How? You been dating him, too, without me knowing it?" He was pleased at the way she said 'we' will get to the governor.

Laughing, she released his tie and slapped him on the shoulder. "No. But I might have a friend…"

"Right…the infamous _friend,_" he snorted.

She didn't, but she would sure be asking around in wider circles to find someone who did.

"El…just promise me…those papers…shred 'em," she pleaded as she locked her eyes with his.

"Haven't even filled them out yet," he said as he gave her a reticent smile.

"Good." She smiled back. "Come up for awhile?"

He looked at his watch and she was sure he was going to refuse.

"Guess Kathy expects you home, huh?"

"I don't think so. I'd like to come up for bit…you got coffee?"

"I can scrounge some up, I 'm sure."

Elliot had been the one to make the coffee while Olivia changed clothes. She reappeared in an oversized tee shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Elliot could not help but wonder who the tee shirt belonged to because it swallowed her. He realized then that she had not mentioned dating anyone lately and he wanted to ask. But he didn't. They had made some great strides in finding their friendship again but a question about her personal life may be all it would take to throw it off kilter again. Besides he hoped that after Kurt she would let him know if there was a serious relationship in her life - no matter what conflicting emotions it evoked within him.

Now seated in her living room, she was tucked into one corner of her beige couch, while he occupied the recliner directly across from her. Shrouded once again in silence, they sipped their coffee. Elliot was the one to break it.

"You said you haven't come to terms with Plummer…how…do you…how do you deal with it?" he asked quietly.

Olivia knew this was probably the closest she would come to getting him to talk about his feelings about Tate. She looked at him and then into the dark liquid in her mug. "I killed him, Elliot. He was innocent and I took his life."

"You had no choice, Olivia."

"I know that here," she said pointing to her head, "but this is where it lives, where it haunts, where it hurts." She pointed to her heart.

He nodded. "I wanted to talk to you so bad that night…I called…even came by your place…" his voice trailed off as he remembered standing in the hallway knocking on her door. Then calling again and again.

Lost in her own memories of that rainy night, she whispered, "I know."

"So…how do I…how did _you_ deal with it?"

A heavy sigh prefaced her answer. "I analyzed everything I did and said; played everything over and over in my head until I nearly went insane; second-guessed myself, my abilities and competency to be a cop; I wanted to quit the force; even talked to Huang. Finally, I learned to live with it," she told him, still staring at the coffee. She took a big swallow and looked up at him. "El, do all you can to free Victor Tate, but if you can't…you gotta let it go. Let it go or it'll consume you."

Nodding, he looked away then downed the rest of his coffee. "Yeah."

*****

The man looked across the table bemused by her answer to his question. When he kept staring at her, she snapped out of her fog.

"What?" she smiled curiously.

"I asked if you were still up for that hiking trip Saturday and you said 'no, thank you. I don't need any more wine.'

The heat rushed to her face as she apologized, "I'm so sorry…I…well, I guess that statement _is _true. I _don't_ need any more wine. I'm already too preoccupied."

They both laughed, but then he leaned across the table, placing his right hand over her left. "You wanna tell me what's going on?"

Giving him a half-hearted smile, she pulled her hand from his and propped her elbows on the table, resting her chin in her hands.

She had not told Dean the specifics of the case and definitely not how it was affecting Elliot. Deciding that he should know because it was _now_ affecting her quite deeply, she began to explain. When she finished, Dean set his glass on the table and shook his head.

"Olivia, I wish you had told me about this when it happened. Remember Joe Philips, the Field Office Supervisor when you went undercover back in '06?"

"Yeah…I remember Joe." She leaned forward keenly interested in what he had to say.

"The governor was his college roommate. They're great friends and I _know_ Joe can get you and Stabler an audience with him," Dean smiled.

"Are you _serious_? You really think he'd do that for you? That would be great, Dean!" she exclaimed. And maybe then I can have my old partner back, she thought.

"He's retired, but Joe and I still catch a drink or dinner here and there. I'll call him first thing in the morning."

"Oh, Dean. Thank you! Thank you so much!" She went around to his side of the booth, slid in next to him, hugging and kissing him.

*****

Three days later Olivia and Elliot were on their way to the capitol for their meeting with the governor. They were to see him just before lunchtime. Dean and Joe were actually going to have lunch with him. Elliot was a bit uncomfortable about Dean being involved. Not because he would have jeopardized the meeting or anything like that, but because of Olivia. From the first time Elliot had met Dean Porter three years ago, he did not like him. Since he did not know him there really was nothing to like or dislike. It was simply because the guy was obviously interested in Olivia and Elliot was jealous. He had no right to be jealous but that did not matter. He and Kathy were separated; he and Olivia had been at odds because of all the undercurrents of forbidden feelings; and now here was a guy that wanted her attention. He didn't like the way Dean looked at her and he sure didn't like the way he touched her. And she let him. No, Elliot did not like it. At all.

The governor's secretary ushered the four of them into his office. Joe introduced everyone and they talked for just a few minutes before Joe and Dean excused themselves. Elliot thanked the governor for allowing them the time to talk and then carefully explained the case while Olivia showed a video of the evidence. The governor asked several well thought out questions as he looked through the police reports and read highlighted portions from Tate's trial. He asked both detectives if they had been aware that the confession was void if the suspect were dead. They talked about how the system was good but far from perfect. Then he asked to listen once again to Foster's taped confession.

"Since receiving these reports two days ago, I have read them thoroughly. Your presentation today has reinforced my thoughts on this situation. Mr. Tate will receive a full pardon as soon as we can process the paperwork. Most likely within the next few days."

Later that night after Dean had gone home Olivia could not get Elliot out of her mind. She wanted to talk with him, see how he was doing. Her calls went unanswered as did her texts. She called his house and Lizzie acted like she was puzzled that Olivia called there for him. Since he was not at home, she headed for the precinct. It was just after ten and the night had been quiet. She wondered why he was not with his family.

The squad room was dimly lit and just a few people on night duty milled about. The only sign of Elliot was his cell phone sitting on his desk. She could see it was lit up showing all her calls and texts. She headed for the locker room first. It was empty as was the crib. That left the roof so she made her way up the last flight of steps and opened the heavy metal door. It groaned and scraped across the rooftop and she saw his silhouette against the city skyline. He was leaning on the railing, looking out at the city. He didn't turn toward her, but she knew he knew it was her.

Slowly she walked over to him, planting herself to his right as she mimicked his actions. She took in the noise of traffic, people talking, shouting. The night air was breezy with just a touch of a chill. Fall was here.

The silence was familiar, comforting. After several minutes, Elliot nudged her shoulder with his. "Liv, I can't thank you enough for making this happen."

"El…_you_ made it happen. It was your explanations and arguments that convinced the governor. _You_ didn't give up." Smiling, she leaned into him this time.

He grinned back and looked out over the city again. After a long minute, he spoke, "So…you and Porter, huh?"

She knew he did not care for Dean. And she knew why. Sucking in her lower lip then biting on it, she cautiously sneaked a sideways glance at him. His eyes were unreadable, squinted against the breeze but she saw the tension in his jaw. From that she knew no matter how far they had come they were still stuck in the timeframe of Gitano; in middle of their complicated feelings for one another. They were close. He was her best friend. And so much more. She loved him. Maybe they _were_ too close. Maybe Cragen _should_ have split them up years ago. A sharp pain ripped through her heart because she could not imagine her life without him.

She looked out over the city and nodded. "Yeah. But _you're_ my best friend."

And standing on the rooftop of the one-six, she felt his smile and it warmed her from the inside out. Shifting her eyes, she could see the city lights reflecting on his face and she did not miss the sparkle on his cheek. The sparkle as one lone tear traveled the length of his cheek and neck to disappear into the collar of his shirt.

"I'm glad you have somebody," he whispered to the night air, his voice raw with emotion.

Turning, he kissed her on the cheek and the last thing she remembered before she realized she was alone, was the sound of a door closing. Was it the door to the building, or the door to her heart? Whatever it was - it hurt.

~ ~ ~ ~ eoeoeoeo ~ ~ ~ ~


	2. Chapter 2 Sugar

Your response is kindly appreciated! Know that I think you guys are a bunch of awesome people!! Thanks for letting me know what you think! I 3 you guys a whole bunch!! " ) Bensler

_"Detectives Benson and Stabler have a degree of mutual reliance, an emotional dependence that compromises their effectiveness as police officers. They're too close". __When Cragen asked her if she recommended he split them up she replied, "If you want to lose your two best detectives". __ ~ Dr. Rebecca Hendrix * __February 27, 2007_

**Benson & Stabler: Too Close **

**by Bensler**

**Chapter 2 ~ Sugar**

The squad room, mostly empty and darkened except for a few scattered desk lamps, was eerily quiet. A bluish glow from Elliot's computer monitor lit his face, the amount of light varying as he changed websites. Disgusted by what filled his screen, he frowned. Sugardaddie, Sugardaddyforme, SugarDaddysSumptuousSweeties, SugarDaddyForMe. There were endless websites for woman looking for sugardaddies and men looking for sugarbabies. He should not have been shocked or surprised, and he did find it odd that after all these years on the job he was both. He thought he had seen it all, but apparently he had not. He _did_ know there were younger women who sought out older men and vice versa, but he had never come face to face with it like they had on the Emily Keefe case. He certainly never dreamed it was such a big business and all right at the fingertips with a few clicks of the keyboard.

Reading through some of the sites, his three daughters came to mind. Maureen, Kathleen and Lizzie were daddy's girl and he was the only 'daddy' he ever wanted them to have.

Being a father to his three girls and two sons was an awesome privilege and a great responsibility. But he felt an even greater responsibility toward his daughters. He knew the influence he had on their lives. He was the prototype for their relationships with other males and it was up to him to make sure he nurtured them in every aspect of their lives but especially when it came to dealing with the opposite sex. He needed to support their individual talents and goals; offer positive encouragement to foster their self-esteem; show them they were special; treat them how they should expect to be treated by men; love them unconditionally, with a father's pure nonsexual love.

Vance Shepard, by his own admission, had failed in his duties as a father. He had not been there for his daughter. Whether due to the divorce or just his own indulgent selfishness, he had neglected her. There was no doubt that Chantel had been very deeply affected by her father's lack of attention. She truly did not believe he loved her. That she could kill his 'sugarbaby', who looked astonishingly like her, and have her Dad then help her cover it up and ultimately take the blame for Emily's murder was proof in her twisted mind that her daddy _did_ love her. What a screwed up world this is, he thought.

The scene with Shepard and Chantel played over and over in his head. The shock of what the young girl did; the blood - it was everywhere - seeping through Elliot's fingers as he tried in vain to stop the flow. Shepard bled out right in front of them – right in the squad room. Chantel must have really hated her father.

He wondered did his girls ever feel the same animosity toward him. He could not get out of his mind how little he had been around for them when they were little and now they were young women. And he still wasn't around like he should be. He wondered was he the reason Kathleen had given them so much trouble – DUI, drugs, breaking and entering – was it his fault? Was it because he wasn't the father he should have been? The guilt and remorse was overwhelming and he sighed loudly.

Olivia, trapped in her own mind with her own thoughts, sat across from her partner of ten years. Only one side of her face was illuminated by the floating NYPD shield contained within the borders of her monitor. She stared at it, hypnotized by its movement. She had been so quiet Elliot had forgotten she was there, so when she responded to his sigh he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"What?" she asked, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"Way to give a guy a heart attack!"

"Sorry." She chuckled quietly. "You find something?"

Shaking his head, he motioned to her to come around to his desk. As she leaned over his shoulder, he turned the monitor to center it between them. "Look at all these sites advertising for hookups between young women and their 'daddies'." His fingers made air quotes.

"Hmmm…it really is unbelievable…all the trash on the internet."

"Trash? It's perversion. Look." He clicked on a link on the webpage and new pictures flashed on the screen. "There're even sites for sugar _mamas_ looking for younger guys."

Olivia shook her head and laughed sarcastically.

"You interested?" Elliot kidded as he elbowed her. "Oh…yeah, you like 'em older."

"Okay, if you want to play dirty, then what about that cute, little, thing at INS who wanted to know why you never called her? Hmmm? She was _definitely_ too young for you!" she retorted, half joking and half pretty ticked when she recalled _that_ particular scene.

"All right…all right." They both looked at each other and silently called a truce about their love lives. He continued, "These girls are selling themselves, Liv. This is nothing but glorified prostitution."

"Yeah, but legal prostitution," she added.

"I just can't get Chantel out of my mind. Shepard basically ignored her yet took up with a girl not much older. I don't understand. He threw away his relationship with his daughter and paid for it with his life. I wonder if my girls ever hated me…or _hate_ me like Chantel hated her dad?"

"El, your girls don't hate you. And I don't think Chantel hated Shepard. She was hurt. She just wanted his attention, his time…all she wanted was his love. So much so that she was willing to do anything to get him to notice her."

"But I've done the same to mine…I haven't been there like should either. I mean, look what all has happened with Kathleen. If I had been the father she needed…"

"Elliot, you've been the best father you know how to be..."

"But that's not good enough, Olivia! _Look_ at Kathleen! Maybe if I'd been there more…"

"_Look_ at Maureen…first year law student. And Lizzie…in the honors program. Kathleen's problems stem from her being bi-polar. It has _nothing_ to do with how much you were or weren't there. Maureen, Kathleen and Lizzie all love you."

"How can you be sure?" He needed reassurance. Olivia's reassurance.

She smiled down at him as he pushed away from the desk to look up at her. "Trust me, El. There is no doubt in my mind."

Rubbing his cheek with the back of his curled fingers, he squinted. "Think they know I love _them_?" he asked pensively.

Without warning, her eyes filled with tears and she turned away. "Yes," she whispered.

Alarmed at her sudden change of demeanor, Elliot wondered what he had said to trigger her tears. He watched silently as she retreated into her own thoughts.

Pulled back into the depressing mood she had earlier wallowed in, Elliot faded away from her, as her confrontation with Chantel moved to the forefront.

'_This isn't the way a father shows his love,' Olivia's voice was gentle but firm._

'_How do you know? Maybe your father didn't love you!' Chantel shot back._

_The words sliced through her, but she did not falter in her response. 'You know what? He didn't. But I still know this is wrong.'_

He didn't. Her father _didn't_ love her. He was a rapist and his action and its consequence had driven her mother to numb herself with alcohol. So, she had been dealt the hand of a drunken mother and a rapist father. A shot at a normal life had never been in the cards for her. Even now. What was normal about putting everything into your job? Twenty-four/seven. What was normal about not having a boyfriend, or ditching him as soon as one started to get too close? What was normal about never getting married or having children when all you had ever wanted was a family of your own. A family where you would belong and be loved. What was normal about never having any close friends?

These were the things in life that most people treasured above everything and anything else. Yet she had no one. Not really. She was alone. And tired of it. She wondered how much never having known the love of a father played into the fact that she had been unsuccessful in all her relationships with a men.

Elliot was the only man she had ever let into her head, her heart, and she wasn't even sure she had _let_ him. It was more like a wearing down and dismantling of all the walls she had built around her emotions, her heart. He took them apart stone by stone until he was right in the middle of her chaos. The funny thing was he seemed to understand the chaos and he did not mind that she was not like other women. He did not mind that she was damaged, unlovable. He knew everything about her – well, almost everything – and still was her friend. Her best friend.

Over the years Olivia had done some research about father daughter relationships and realized just what she had missed growing up. The first man in a young girl's life was her father. He was the first man to love her, to respect her, encourage her. He was the first male that she loved and relied on. Her relationship with him would have a significant impact on the development of a young girl. It would also determine whether there was a positive or negative effect on the young girl's future relationships with men.

She remembered her friend Erin. They met the first year of junior high and Olivia was at their house every chance she got because it was so much fun. Erin's parents always took up time with the girls. They played board games, watched movies or TV together, and they always made meals together. Erin's Mom was always laughing and smiling and hugging them. But as nice as she was, it was Erin's Dad that Olivia always watched. There was such a strong father daughter relationship between him and Erin. Olivia felt the great sense of trust, communication, guidance, and love they shared. She had nothing like that at home. When Erin's dad would compliment or praise Olivia for her help in preparing a meal, or good strategy during a game, she was on cloud nine for days.

How different might she have been, how different would her life be now if she had been able to share her problems, fears, and aspirations with a father who cherished her. That had not happened. Instead she often felt unloved and unwanted because she had never had a secure relationship with anyone – not her mother and certainly not her father. She was growing more depressed by the minute. She had to quit thinking along these lines or be consumed by feeling sorry for herself.

"Liv? Olivia?" His hands were on her shoulders, gently shaking her.

Her head lifted up and her met Elliot's worry filled eyes. "Huh?"

"You okay?" His eyes mirrored the worry he felt.

"What?" She frowned as she tried to make sense of why he asked her that. "Yeah…yeah, I'm fine.

Elliot scrutinized her closely. She could say it all day long but she was not fine and he knew it. But what happened? He kept thinking about what she said, what he said and out of the blue it hit him like a ton of bricks. Her father. She never knew him. Never knew what it was like to have a father that loved her unconditionally; that was always there for her no matter what. Until three years ago what she had lived with all her life was the knowledge that her father raped her mother and that was how she came to be born. A forced union of violence, degradation and fear. A forced union that colored her entire life; that made her feel unworthy of love and all the good things life had to offer.

"Liv…he _did_ love you."

"What? Who?" her head jerked up and her questioning eyes met his.

He worried his bottom lip with his teeth, knowing this conversation had the potential to send her running. Maybe even farther than Oregon. He scratched his head and sighed heavily. "Don't…uh… take this the wrong way…your father. Your father loved you."

The look she gave him was one of incredulity and utter shock. "What? How _dare_ you say something like that! He was a _rapist_! He _raped_ my mother!"

"I-I know…but his underlying problems…the depression and all…"

"Depression does _not_ excuse what he did to my mother or that other woman and who knows how many more!"

"I'm not…I mean…look, I know it doesn't excuse what he did. I'm not saying that…but once he started taking medication for it, I think it cleared his head and gave him the chance to realize what he had done. And I think maybe he _was_ sorry for it. You said Simon said he was a great father and loved him and his mom. I think he was so sorry that in his right mind he…he couldn't live with it."

"Elliot! I can't believe you can even begin to make that kind of assumption about him! Not every man who biologically creates a child is a _father_!"

"Liv, he didn't keep track of you to remember what he'd done and get off on it. I think he truly _cared_ about what happened to you. I think he loved you because you were his daughter."

She could not believe Elliot had the nerve to bring all this up; to dredge up feelings that she herself would not admit. He was even defending the man! The man she _hated. _Her father. She hated what he had done to her mother – how he had stolen her confidence in the world, leaving fear and cynicism and alcohol in its place. And in turn he had stolen Olivia's childhood and shaped her being and life in more ways perhaps than he would have had he been a physical part of her life. She hated him, yet for some strange reason she _needed_ to believe that he had loved her. She _wanted_ to think that in some twisted way he loved the daughter he had created through the heinous act of rape.

"Why? Why would he love me?" She had never felt worthy of anyone's love. That was the legacy her father gave her and her mother reinforced.

"_Because_ you were his _daughter_. And because even though life dealt you a rough hand, you've played it out, made it right and have done so much good. You _still_ do good."

"Good?" she scoffed and wiped a tear from her cheek.

"Liv, you've made such a difference in so many lives," he spoke with a subdued passion, begging her to see what was so very clear to him.

She snorted in disbelief. "Yeah…maybe I have, but there is no relationship. When it's all said and done those people don't care about me and I don't have any further contact with them. I'm meaningless to them. So, tell me, Elliot _whose_ life have I made a difference in that will be there when _I _need _them_, huh?"

Raking a hand over his head, he stepped right up to her, searching her eyes as he gently pulled the strand of hair hiding her right eye and tucked it behind her ear.

Since he'd never done that before, touched her like that, she looked at him as though she did not even know him; like she thought he had lost his mind. If the truth were known he _had_ lost it – right about the same time he had lost his heart - to her.

He started to speak but then sucked in a sharp breath, letting it loose through his nose. His eyes shone with an emotion she was not sure she knew and was even more sure she did not dare venture to name.

"Mine," he whispered, the lump in his throat causing his voice to break. His smile was not really a smile but instead a seal of sincerity stamped upon his words. "And, Olivia, I'll _always_ be here for you."

~ ~ ~ eoeoeoeoeo ~ ~ ~


	3. Chapter 3 Solitary

Author's Chapter Notes:

I hope you like Solitary... " ) Bensler

***************

_"Detectives Benson and Stabler have a degree of mutual reliance, an emotional dependence that compromises their effectiveness as police officers. They're too close". When Cragen asked her if she recommended he split them up she replied, "If you want to lose your two best detectives". _

_~ Dr. Rebecca Hendrix - __February 27, 2007_

**Chapter 3 ~ Solitary**

Solitary. Alone. Single. One. Elliot stared into the silent, empty space, straining to hear even a muffled human voice. People were not created to be alone. They are very much dependent upon touch and communication. Reciprocation of compassion, love and concern, was vital to a healthy mind, body and spirit. In order to exist within the confines of normality interaction with others was not just a desire, but a necessity. Humans were made to share, to enjoy relationships with others. Yet these things had been withheld from him for what he thought was only the beginning of the third day, and already he felt like he was teetering on the edge of sanity. The hours felt more like eternity.

Solitary. Alone. Single. One. He thought of Callum Donovan, the bank robber he collared when he was still in uniform. The case was big enough that Elliot was promoted to detective even though he was still too young by NYPD standards. He thought about Donovan being locked up for so long in the hole; away from human sound, camaraderie, touch. In solitary confinement. After just these couple of days Elliot felt like he was losing it, so he could only imagine what havoc years and years locked away from human contact would wreak on one's psyche. He realized now that Donovan was not making up how the hole had changed and scarred him, made him a tad unstable.

Elliot now understood, partly, how and why Donovan had pushed him over the edge of that building. He was a symbol of the law and prison and the hole. Donovan was only protecting himself because he feared Elliot had come to arrest him, to take him back to the hellish existence. Death was preferable to being sent back to solitary confinement. Couple this with Donovan's innocence in the purported crime and Elliot could see just how his mind had been affected by this treatment. Firsthand experience was a indisputable teacher.

Already, he found himself brooding incessantly, his mind recalling every single mistake he'd ever made in his life, his regrets, his sins against his God and his family and others. There were so many thoughts he honestly believed it was a matter of time before he would go crazy. Then just before he reached that point, his mind would go blank. No matter how hard he tried, he could not recall facts he had learned, books he had read, movies he had seen, songs that he sang. He could not even remember the names of his children or their birthdates. There was nothing there. Nothing. And it was frightening.

Elliot had never been alone. Not really. He had gone from living with his parents, three sisters and two brothers to being married to Kathy and then six months later having a new baby. With the addition of four more children, being alone was a near impossibility. No, he had never really been alone; never truly experienced the silence, the loneliness, the disconnect of being all alone. Well, in a matter of hours, he had endured enough of the hole to know he did not like it – being alone, that is. Not one bit.

Solitary. Alone. Single. One. His thoughts turned to her – not that she was ever very far from them. His partner of ten plus years. She had basically been alone all her life. Okay, well, not alone like being confined in a prison cell. Or was it? Was she imprisoned by the things life had taught her? Her alcoholic mother for all practical purposes was not there for Olivia. In fact, from the bits and pieces she had told him, it seemed she was the one who took care of her mother, not the other way around as should be.

Thinking about Olivia's childhood and the fact that she was born as the child of a rape, he realized she most certainly was imprisoned by her circumstances. She had built a fortress around her a mile high; the walls reinforced by each broken promise, each harsh word, each failed relationship. Pushing away anyone that got too close, she found being alone easier than risking more hurt, more rejection. Shaking his head he could not believe this had never occurred to him before. He realized not only was she imprisoned she had built her very own cell. Over the years she had carefully constructed those walls and boundaries, not necessarily to keep others out, but rather, to protect her, to keep from being hurt.

This was something he should have seen long ago. It was _something_ he should have noticed when she talked about adopting. She _did_ want children. And someone to love and return that love; to hold her close after a rough day; to share good times and lighten the strain of the bad; a family; somewhere to belong. She had even told him all this that night in the car when she told him about Simon. It just didn't register like it should have. It didn't register just how alone she really had been and still was. Remembering that night in the patrol car, she had been visibly upset, and he recalled their conversation.

'_Last night, watching him in that window playing with that little boy ... I wanted to be part of a family, so much. I've been alone my whole life. I'm sorry, I'm whining,' she sniffled and looked away. _

Watching her eyes fill with tears, he simply could not stand it. He _had_ to comfort her. No matter that they did not do this – touch. He had to connect with her; let her know he cared and was there for her. He reached out and gently massaged her neck, completely surprised that she did not pull away. And then what did he say? Possibly the stupidest, most asinine, utterly insensitive thing he could have ever said to her.

'_You're not. Family's everything.'_

Family's everything. Here she was desperate to be a part of something she did not have, something she never really had and he reinforces that what she wants is _everything_? He hadn't really thought much about the carelessness of his words that night although later he replayed them and wished he had said something else, anything else. Instead his words only emphasized with glaring clarity that what she did not have was one of the most important things in the world – someone to share her life with completely.

Rolling his head from side to side, he released a little bit of tension along with a deep sigh. If only he could talk to her right now. If only he could tell her she was not alone. As long as he was around, she was not alone. Would _never_ be alone. The laugh that ripped from his throat was sarcastic and mocking. Never be _alone_? She needed someone that could be with her, love her. All the things he would give anything to be able to do for her, but yet was in no position to offer.

When had he started loving her, he wondered? And, God help him, when had he fallen _in_ love with her? The laughter became louder and harsher, filling the air and echoing in the small cell, mocking and condemning his feelings. His sides ached from the strain as his mirth turned into unbidden tears. Sobbing with an abandonment he had never felt, he cried. He cried – for her; for him; for what could have been; for what most likely never would be.

The apartment was quiet except for the television droning in the background. Having fallen asleep while it was still daylight, Olivia was now lying on the couch bathed in semi-darkness. Pulling the dark blue throw over her bare legs, she replayed the events of the past few days.

Lily Milton, her boyfriend, Parker Hubbard, and Callum Donovan, the key players in the saga. The girl had nearly let an innocent man go to prison. She had let her friends, family and the NYPD think she had been abducted and nearly killed all to cover up the fact that she was trying to make a score. The boyfriend was certain it was Donovan who just happened to have a record for bank robbery and a nineteen year prison record.

Elliot was about to explode when Lily finally came clean about her ruse. Even when he finally lambasted the girl, Olivia could tell he was doing his best to reign in all his anger and frustration. Then he had left the hospital and gone to apologize to Donovan for the false accusation but before he could say much, the man had shoved him over the edge of the building. That he had been so sure Donovan was guilty would be yet one more reason for him to question his capability to perform his duties as a detective.

When Cragen called Olivia to tell her to meet him at the hospital because Elliot had been injured, she was frantic. Cragen had no details and she could not help but think his luck had to be running low. He'd had his head bashed in, been shot, stabbed, kicked in the ribs. It was a matter of time before something really bad happened to one of them and it was a wonder she made it there in one piece. And then? Then on top of everything with Elliot, she had to deal with the new ADA, Sonya Paxton, SVU's newest thorn in the flesh.

Paxton was her usual cold-hearted self, making Olivia entertain the idea even more than she normally did of smacking her.

'_Does he do this often?' Paxton brusquely asked._

'_What? Almost die in the line of duty?' Olivia had retorted her voice full of sarcasm, infuriated that the woman made light of the attempt on Elliot's life.  
_

'_No, take a nap half way through his tour,' Paxton smarted back._

'_I'm still alive. I can hear you ladies. Any sign of Donovan?' Elliot surprised them by jumping into the conversation._

'_Not yet but we're going to get him. Half the department is looking for him,' she told her partner._

'_And the other half is drowning their sorrows,' Cragen informed him._

Had he not tried to kill Elliot, Donovan would have remained a free man, not on the run from the law. Determined to help find their escaped perp Elliot had tried to get up. She tried to hold him back but it was Cragen who ultimately got him to settle down, basically giving him the order that he would not leave until every test necessary had been done by the doctors.

The need to see how he was doing, to hear his voice, swept over her and she reached for her cell phone on the table beside her. As she waited for him to answer, she was a little miffed that it went to his voice mail. Sending him a text, she fully expected to hear from him within a few minutes, so she held the phone in her hand. Thirty minutes later, her level of irritation sky high, she called his home.

"Olivia?" Having seen the familiar number on caller ID, Kathy's worried voice answered.

"Kathy, hi. Is…uh…Elliot around?" she asked tentatively because she heard the fear the other woman felt and poured into her own being.

"What? No. He…he said there was a c-case and not to expect him home for a few days…"

"A few days?"

"Yes. He got a call Thursday night and left shortly after. Is everything okay?"

No. Nothing was okay. "Uh…yea…I just…forgot. I'm…uh…working a different angle." She was appalled at how easily the lie slipped from her mouth. "El's fine."

Ending the call, her gut twisted with worry, her heart stopped in fear, and anger washed over her. Such conflicting emotions. _Where_ was her partner? Thursday! This was _Sunday_ night. Three days. He'd been gone three days working a phantom 'case'. He lied to his wife; didn't say anything to his partner; and she doubted if anyone knew where he was or what he was doing. If Kathy didn't kill Elliot Stabler, then she, Olivia Benson, surely would. An hour later she was lost in thoughts alternating between varying scenarios of horrible things that may have happened to him, to the horrible things _she_ would do to him for putting her through this worry. She was so far into her own head she almost did not hear the soft knocking that gently echoed through the apartment.

Knock-knock-knock. Someone was at her door. Knock-knock-knock. She kicked the cover from her legs and jumped up. There was only one person who would be at her door, unannounced and uninvited, especially at this time of the night. Even knowing who was on the other side of the door, she looked through the security glass before opening the door. He stood, hands in pockets, staring at the floor. Slowly he lifted his eyes to meet hers. No words were exchanged as they simply stared at one another. Several long minutes passed before Olivia stepped back, holding the door open for Elliot to enter.

Stepping in, he looked around the apartment, down at the floor and anywhere except her. He had several days' worth of stubble and his tee shirt was rumpled. She figured he had come here for a reason and he must have _something_ to say – like where the heck he had been for the last three days and why he lied to Kathy - so she waited.

"Liv…" he started, but nothing followed her name as he finally looked into her eyes again.

She stared at him, still waiting for whatever it was he needed to tell her.

Dropping his gaze, he made a few steps toward her living room. With his back to her, he spoke again, "When you…uh…the other day…" His hand scrubbed over his chin before slipping around to massage his neck. '…you said you would have _killed_ to do a stint in the hole. Did you…did you mean that?"

Though, yes, she would have much preferred the hole to where Harris took her, she did not think that was what Elliot was asking. Not sure where he was going with this, she took several minutes to form an answer. "Well, no…not really. I just meant that after being surrounded by others 24/7…I just needed some time alone."

"Time alone." Drawing a deep breath, he nodded as he released it. "Because you…you…uh…don't have any…you live alone and all?"

Growing increasingly puzzled and a bit aggravated at his questions, she was did her best not to snap at him. "Yeah, I live alone…and I _don't_ have a…family…or a…" She shrugged.

His eyes traveled her face and he started to say something else, but then shaking his head he looked away.

"What? What's going on, Elliot?" Her irritation was turning to concern.

"I've…I've never been alone. Not really. I never knew it was…it was…" Pain etched itself in the burrows of his forehead, he paused and his eyes met hers again. "I-I didn't know h-how hard it was to be alone."

His heart was breaking for her. For the fact that she had been alone so long she knew nothing else, could remember nothing else. He wanted to touch, to hold her, to tell her she should not feel alone because he was there. He would always be there.

Confused at what he was saying, she looked at him in bewilderment.

"I-I…never knew it was so…lonely…so depressing."

"Elliot…where is all this coming from?"

"I went to Sing-Sing."

The revelation caused her to gasp. "What?"

He could not hold her gaze. And then she knew. "You've been in the hole for three days. That's why you lied to Kathy." She stated the facts.

"Yeah."

"You should have told me."

"I knew you'd try to talk me out of it."

"Why would you do that, Elliot?"

"I had to know what it was like, what Donovan felt, how it affected him, if it really did."

"And did it?"

Nodding his head, he spoke so softly she could barely hear him. "It did. I learned just how bad we _all_ need human contact…how important it is to have others, to _know_ someone is there."

Olivia could think of nothing to say, so she didn't say anything.

"And I learned something else, too."

"What?"

"That I never realized what it must be like for you to not have a family and I don't want you to be alone, Olivia. I don't want you to ever feel like you don't have anyone," his voice was deep with emotion.

The tears stung her eyelids but she was determined not to cry as she struggled to swallow the huge lump in her throat. The silence stretched until it became quite uncomfortable.

Finally, she laughed. Or rather she attempted it. "So…what are _you_ going to do about it? Hmmm? There is _nothing_ you can do, Elliot. Besides, I'm used to being alone."

"That's just it. You're _not_ alone. Cragen, Munch, Fin, Melinda, Alex, Casey…you're not alone, Olivia. May not be flesh and blood, but they _are_ family. They care about you. More than you realize."

She noticed he did not mention himself and it bothered her but she didn't know how to bring it up without being obvious. "What about you? Guess you don't need any more 'family'."

She tried to play off the question as a joke but he both knew it fell flat. They both knew what she meant.

Then she noticed it. There it was - that smirk; annoying, but cute. His eyes now twinkled as he brushed his knuckles across her cheek. "Me? I'm _closer_ than flesh and blood. I'm _more_ than family. I'm your partner, Liv. You're stuck with _me_ for better or worse. Remember?"

"I remember," she whispered.

"Better or worse." He smiled down at her. "And don't you ever forget it."

Smiling back at him, she wiped away the solitary tear that had managed to escape and run down her cheek.

"I won't," she promised.

~ ~ ~ eoeoeoeoeo ~ ~ ~


	4. Chapter 4  PC

**_Once I'm finished with this...if ever...P.C. will really be chapter 13 because it was the 13th show of the season...hence the reason it says 'chapter 13'. Hope you like it. _**

**I have been out of the loop because my Mom has been in the hospital with two shattered vertebrae that were pushing on the spinal cord...had surgery May 7, will have a second surgery this Friday, May 21. One of my brothers, my sister and I have been staying with her 24/7. If you are a praying person, I would appreciate your petitions to God on her behalf. I am very worried about her. Thanks. " ) Bensler**

_"Detectives Benson and Stabler have a degree of mutual reliance, an emotional dependence that compromises their effectiveness as police officers. They're too close". When Cragen asked her if she recommended he split them up she replied, "If you want to lose your two best detectives". _

_~ Dr. Rebecca Hendrix * February 27, 2007_

**Benson & Stabler: Too Close **

**by Bensler**

**Chapter 13 ~ P.C.**

Elliot looked at his partner staring off into space, her profile highlighted by the bluish glow of the computer monitor. Should be a law against a woman being so beautiful, he thought, especially after a sixteen hour workday. Glancing over at the clock on the wall – eleven forty-eight - he wondered why she was still here. Pretending to do paperwork. He knew why he was. It was the pure and simple fact that he didn't want to go home. Home was now a place he sought refuge from – be it the icy silences, the petty bickering or the out and out hollering matches. Heck, he could stay at the precinct and get all that most of the time. As soon as the thought formed, he corrected himself. No, that was not quite right. Not anymore. He and Olivia had actually been getting along quite well lately. And ironically it seemed things really started smoothing out since Porter's brief appearance on the scene several months ago. His eyes drifted back to Olivia and he again wondered why she had not called it a night.

"Hey, why don't you head home?" he asked softly, trying not to startle her. "You gotta be tired."

Slowly her head turned and she gave him a closed mouth smile and shrugged. "Why don't you?"

Returning the shrug, he waved his hands over all the papers and reports littering his desk. "Too much paperwork."

He smiled at her.

She rolled her eyes.

Both of them knew that was not why he was there. Or why she was there, for that matter. Their eyes locked, neither saying a word. The lingering gaze became too much for Elliot so he diverted his eyes, pulled another form toward him and started writing, keenly aware that Olivia was intently watching him. Several minutes passed and still they were enshrouded in silence. Yawning, he stretched and wished she really would call it a night because he was sure ready for some rest but he planned to sleep in the crib. Not something he wanted her to know, so he kept writing.

"I broke a date tonight," she offered, quietly as she shifted in her chair to prop her elbows on her desk and continue staring at Elliot.

Date? She never said anything about a date. Never told him she was seeing anyone. The instantaneous anger began a slow boil but he was determined to keep her from seeing it because he had no right. Not really. He took a slow, deep breath before responding.

"Yeah? Didn't know you were seeing anyone?" Way to go Stabler. Subtle. Smooth. No way will she ever know you're fishing for information.

Shrugging, she chuckled. "Guess I'm not. This is the third time in ten days I've had to cancel on him."

That's good, Elliot thought. More than good. In fact, that's great!

Offering the expected reassurances, he tried to look sympathetic. "I'm sure he understood and will…" Elliot trailed off when he saw her shaking her head.

"That's just it, Elliot. He…" She paused, sucked her lower lip into her mouth then released it. "He didn't. They never do," she sighed, looked away and then back to him. "I'm _not_ gay, El."

Elliot's eyes narrowed at her proclamation. What? She is still thinking about that? He could not believe she was still mulling over their latest case and the lesbian activist who had hit on her yesterday. It just now hit him how much all that truly bothered her. "Olivia, I _know_ that. Babs bother you that much?"

"No! I mean, no, she didn't bother me…not _that_ way," she said defensively as she sat straight up.

"_That's_ not what I meant. I meant, why are you letting what she said and did bother you so much, huh? Look at all the _guys_ that hit on you. You are absolutely hot, Olivia. Who _wouldn't_ hit on you? Gay or straight."

'_Your partner has the hots for you_,' Babs' voice reverberated in Olivia's weary, overloaded brain. Was that really even possible, she wondered? If only Babs knew how much that statement rattled her…how much she dreamed it were true. Shaking her head to dislodge the thought of her and Elliot together from her mind, she spoke again, "I don't know…it's just that…that…never mind."

He waited, giving her a chance to collect her thoughts.

Leaning back in her chair, she ran her hands through her hair. "All I have ever wanted…since I was a little girl…all I have ever wanted was to have a real family…somewhere to belong…someone to love and to love me."

Elliot felt a pain shoot through his heart. He knew life had cheated her out of a family, but he thought she had learned to deal with it. Had learned that you don't have to be blood to be family. He wanted to get up and take her in his arms, instead he sat quietly, waiting patiently for her to continue.

"When I got older, I figured I'd eventually meet someone, get married, have kids…but…it…well, it's not likely that will ever happen now," she lamented. "And I just don't want people thinking that just because I'm a cop and not married that means I must be gay."

"I didn't realize you had such an issue about gays," Elliot frowned trying to make sense of what she was really trying to say since he knew she was sympathetic toward that community.

"I don't. I…I don't know, Elliot. I don't think anyone would _choose_ to be gay because it is _so_ again the norm. It has to be really hard to go against mainstream society and have people always looking at you sideways. I guess what I'm saying, El, is my life is already screwed up enough…and I don't need any more issues thrown into it, you know. Especially ones that are not true."

"Screwed up? What are you talking about?" Elliot was starting to get upset with her now.

Throwing her head back and laughing sarcastically, she said, "You're kidding, right?" She leveled her gaze at him. "My father is my mother's rapist; she was a drunk who was pretty much an absentee parent; I don't have any family or significant friends; can't maintain a relationship with a man," she snorted, "…the last one I really cared about told me our feelings don't matter; I love kids and want my own, but well…I have nothing aside from this freaking job and even it's not a _normal_ job! Something _must_ be wrong with me!" she shouted and angrily wiped away tears before they could spill over.

"Liv…come on, now…" His mind was on the reference she made to Porter. _The last one I really cared about._ _Our feelings don't matter_. He had wanted to strangle the man when he heard him say that to Olivia. Yes, he eavesdropped on them after Cragen sent him out of the interrogation room. He heard Porter and he saw Olivia's anguish and tears and his desperation to avenge her pain was almost more than he could bear.

"No. Elliot, even _you_ question whether or not I'm straight…"

"No, I don't. I couldn't believe you would even ask me something like that," he assured her.

Shaking her head in disbelief, she countered, "Then why didn't you just answer my question about the gay vibes instead of giving me all your smart comebacks? And why'd you say what you did after I got that sleazebag to confess?"

Elliot raised his eyebrows at her. "What'd I say?"

"You said, 'she gave a good performance_. I think'_."

Sighing, he stood from his desk, pushing the chair away and went around to Olivia's desk and sat on the edge of it. "Olivia, I was messing with you. I didn't mean anything by it." He leaned down and butted his shoulder against hers. "I promise. You think if I really thought you were gay, I'd _tease_ you about it?"

Refusing to meet his gaze, she picked up an ink pen and began to click it open and closed. No, he would not. She knew that whatever insensitive ways he may have about him, he would never tease her about something that was such an intricate part of who she was. Unable to help herself, she smiled and looked up at him, "You don't know what it's like to have someone question your sexuality…it just, I don't know…it's so much of who we are and for someone to bring that into question…well, you just can't understand."

"Yeah," he replied, scratching his head, "Yeah, I can."

Her head snapped up and she stared opened mouthed with confusion all over her face. "What?"

"Remember that case seven or eight years ago where that guy that was raped outside a gay bar and an off-duty detective found him? Steve Nathan from the 2-5. Big, black guy…6'3" or 4". _Gay_ black guy," Elliot emphasized.

Olivia was dumfounded. She had nearly forgotten that case but now recalled it and knew something about it stuck with Elliot for him to remember that detective's name. She could only nod in answer.

"Couple of nights later…he…Steve…uh…was waiting by my car…and he…uh…uh…" Elliot squeezed his eyes shut as he shook his head. Looking up at Olivia again, he continued. "He…uh…wanted to know did I want to meet him and his buddies for a couple of drinks. Told him I was married and not interested. He…uh…well, he leaned real close and put his hands on my chest and told me lots of gay men were married."

Olivia's eyes were huge. "What did you do?" She imagined he more than likely beat the guy to a pulp.

Elliot laughed. "I told him to get out of my face and get his hands off of me or the only place he was going was the ER."

Someone actually questioned Elliot Alpha Male Stabler's sexuality? And lived? Envisioning how incensed he must have been, she could almost hear him deliver the threat, almost see the anger on his face and feel the rage emanating from him.

"You never told me about this." She was incredulous that he kept such a thing from her.

"What? So I could listen to you rag me for the next thirty years? Not a chance, Olivia. Not a chance," he laughed again.

This is what she needed – his laughter, his smile, his support – to put her back on an even keel. And Elliot just did that for her whether he realized it or not. Oh, of course, he realized it. That's what they did. Push and pull. Poke and prod. When one was down, the other picked them up; when one couldn't go on anymore, the other would get behind and push; and when they hit a rough spot at the same time, they sat together in companionable silence, knowing the other was there. And that made all the difference in the world.

Returning his smile, she leaned over to shut her computer down, threw the files on her desk in a drawer, locked it and pushed away from her desk. "Think I'm calling it a night. How about you?" Pulling her keys from the top desk drawer and picking up her cell phone, she stood.

Elliot watched her from his perch on her desk. He smiled and tipped his head toward his desk, "I'm gonna finish that last report first."

"Okay. Well, good night, El." They stared at each other for a few seconds and then she turned to leave.

"I'll walk out with you," he offered.

"No…I've got my car and it's in the precinct garage. I'll be fine," she told him as she waved him off.

Elliot shrugged and remained seated on her desk. Eyes following her across the room, a crazy thought, _really_ crazy, flittered across his mind. Before he knew it he had covered the distance between them and grabbed her arm to stop her.

When she spun around, he quickly put his left arm around her shoulder as his right slipped around to the back of her head, his fingers weaving through her hair. He acted. He did not think. However, just before he pressed his lips to hers and kissed her fully and properly, his mind _did_ register the confused look on her face along with the fullness of her lips and the absence of her forever present lip gloss. At first, she was rigid, but quickly melted in his arms and kissed him back.

Tonight his lips had met the lips of two women other than his wife. How different this kiss was from the one _Babs_ put on _him_. Knowing he could not continue kissing Olivia and remain faithful to his marriage, he ended the kiss. Both of his hands slid forward to cup her face as he pulled away. Eyes locked, he whispered, "You _aren't_ gay, Olivia."

Trying to regain the composure he had just stolen from her, she watched as he walked back to his desk, sat down and began to work. She had no idea how long she stood there, but he finally looked up at her again.

"Good night, Liv." He smiled and when he did everything in her settled.

It may not be P.C., but she was _glad_ she wasn't gay. And she was glad her partner did not think so either. Smiling, she nodded and, once again, headed out.

~eoeoeoeoeo~


	5. Chapter 5 Savior

**My Mom has been in the hospital since May 4...was taken back to ICU (4th time since May 4) right before my son's high school graduation this past Thursday. She went in healthy other than the back problems and now has contracted something call C Diff - a bacterial infection common among older people who have been on a lot of antibiotics - she is not doing very well. Anyway this has been an extremely stressful and emotional time for me and my whole family. Please keep her and us in your prayers. Thanks so much. " ) Bensler  
**

_"Detectives Benson and Stabler have a degree of mutual reliance, an emotional dependence that compromises their effectiveness as police officers. They're too close". When Cragen asked her if she recommended he split them up she replied, "If you want to lose your two best detectives". _

_ ~ Dr. Rebecca Hendrix * February 27, 2007_

**Benson & Stabler: Too Close **

**by Bensler**

**Chapter 14 ~ Savior**

Not bothering to read the name scrawled across the display, Elliot sleepily reached for his chirping phone, opened it and put it to his ear as he fell back on the bed with a drowsy grunt. Rubbing his free hand over his eyes, he answered.

"Yeah – Stabl…"

"Elliot!"

His weary body now shot straight up, every nerve cell now wide awake and on high alert. Never in eleven years had he heard Olivia's voice sound quite like this – frantic, terrified, conflicted. And this unfamiliar sound produced the same in him.

She was talking so fast and crying – yes, crying – so hard that he could only understand a word or two here and there.

"Liv, Liv…hey, slow down…I can't understand what you're saying. Are you okay?" He was already out of bed and pulling on his jeans with one hand. Something was not right. She was much too upset.

"I'm fine," she responded and then through more tears went on saying something about a baby and bleeding.

Thinking it was another case, he asked, "Where are you?" He slipped on his tennis shoes and grabbed a sweatshirt.

Sniffles intermingled with her words, "Mercy General."

"Be there in less than ten," he said as he started to disconnect. Something stopped him and he asked her another question. "Liv, you want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"Yes…I need you to tell…" Her words died out and he could hear someone else's voice in the background. "Hang on a sec," she told him. There was more talking but he could not hear what was said. A short minute later she was back. "El, the doctor needs to talk to me. Just hurry! Please!"

Olivia stared at the second doctor's mouth as he talked. The lady doctor's diagnosis and course of treatment had rendered her in shock and the words she was hearing now from a male doctor were simply not making sense. Maybe if she read his lips somehow his words would become coherent to her instead of just an indecipherable jumble of sounds.

'…no chance at all…but…even then…no guarantees…' Parts of the sentences made their way to some small portion of her mind that teetered on the verge of putting everything together. What she was being asked to do was finally beginning to come to light and it filled her with even more panic.

"…hemorrhaging would damage…or she might not survive…so there really are only two options," the doctor explained.

He was telling her the same thing the first doctor had and Olivia simply could not process it all. She needed Elliot. Where was he? Her brain was muddled with battling thoughts as she was torn asunder at the situation she had been thrust into with no warning.

"Detective Benson?" The lady doctor gently yet firmly addressed her, trying to get her attention.

Olivia's tear streaked face turned toward the doctor but she only stared because she could barely think let alone form words to speak.

"Detective…we need to know what to do?" The male doctor now spoke, his dark eyes shining from his dark face.

Olivia shook her head with such force she felt the start of a headache. "Can't you…I don't…what should I do? I don't know what to do. Elliot will…my partner will be here soon. I-I need to t-talk to him. Can it wait just a little longer?"

The two doctors exchanged disbelieving looks. "Detective Benson, I don't know how to make this any clearer. You have power of attorney over the baby's medical care. You need to decide – do we withhold care? Or do we perform the surgery?" The male doctor was clearly losing his patience with her. She was beginning to feel like she had when Lauren Cooper shot herself right in front of her; like she did after the nightmares about Sealview had begun; like she losing total control.

Huge brown eyes filled with indecision and fear stared back at him. "I…I can't…she's not my baby…I can't be responsible for…"

"Detective, for all practical intents and purposes, the power of attorney _makes_ her your baby. So, _yes_, you are responsible for her. Please tell us what to do," the male doctor quietly pleaded.

"Me tell you? You're the doctors! You should know what to do. You can't possibly expect me to…"

The lady doctor pulled Olivia aside. "Listen, I know this is tough. But legally we cannot tell you what to nor make that decision. _You_ must decide. _Now_."

"My partner will be here any minute…"

"We need to know now. By waiting you are making the decision to withhold care. _Is_ that your decision, Detective?"

Sheer terror reflected in her eyes when she looked at the doctor this time. Shaking her head, she took ragged breaths and nearly shouted, "No! I mean…I-I don't' know…oh, God…I d-don't know." She raked her shaky hands through her hair." What should I do?" she begged the doctors.

The words between her and Elliot reverberated in her head. Again.

'_Gladys wanted to use heroic measures to save her baby.' _

'_I don't blame her. Whatever happened to first do no harm?'_

'_What if keeping her alive does more harm than good?'_

'_If you had kids you wouldn't be asking that.'_

'_Oh, so just because I'm not a mother means I don't care about this baby?'_

_She then used the scenario that what if it was Eli and even that did not change Elliot's mind._

'_I wouldn't play God.'_

'_Then don't play doctor either.'_

She had said those words haughtily to Elliot and now that came back to haunt her. At this very moment she was being asked to play both God and doctor. Now the answers were not so easy. The baby was not hers and yet she found herself totally invested emotionally. She could not help but wonder if it was because she had been suddenly forced into the decision or was it that she really and truly was so conflicted because it really wasn't as easy as it seemed when she was not the one have to make the choice for a child's future. If the child were hers would the choice she made be any different?

Before Captain Cragen gave her that piece of paper declaring her power of attorney, she knew exactly what she would have done in this situation. It was much more black and white before it was up to her; much more black and white when she was removed emotionally from it. Logic prevailed. Why perform expensive medical tests and procedures on a child that may never have a normal life? Why save a child that would require ongoing expensive treatment and care the rest of their life. There was no question as to what she would do. Who would want to live knowing they would be brain damaged, blind, and crippled or quite possibly all of those things? No, she could not, _would_ not do that to a child. She would withhold care and let the precious little one go quietly.

Now faced with being the one to make that ultimate, irreversible decision, to do what Elliot had so accurately proclaimed as 'playing God', there simply were no easy answers to be found. Elliot had told the doctor there was no way of knowing whether the baby had a chance at a normal life and Olivia knew he was right. All the doctor had to go on was statistics. And though they were not good, there _were_ those few babies who made it and did so with very little side effects, going on to live a very normal fulfilling life. What if this baby girl was one of them? What if there was a chance, even a small one? Who was she, Olivia Benson, mother of no one, to make the decision for the child to have all the medical care available and at least a shot at a life or have it taken away by withholding that medical care.

Now the exchange between her and Captain Cragen began pinging around her precariously overloaded brain.

'_Gladys left me power of attorney over her baby,' she told Captain Cragen._

'_There's a note from her, too,' he said._

Opening it, she read the note to him. '_Olivia, I realized today that you were right. I do need to make the right decisions from now on. That's why I've decided to go away and figure everything out. I know you will be there for my baby and do what's best for her until I get back and can be the mother she deserves.'_

Be there for her baby? Olivia's heart was nearly pounding out of her chest with indecision. Where was Elliot? She couldn't do this. No way could she make this decision alone. She needed someone to tell her what to do. She needed Elliot.

"Doctor! The baby is crashing!" a nurse in scrubs called from the double doors at the end of the hall.

"Detective? We need an answer. _Now_."

Elliot went to the ER but saw no sign of Olivia. At the information desk he was directed to neo-natal pediatrics on the third floor. As he rode the elevator he could not help but think this was twice in one week that he had been summoned here because of a baby.

The nurses' station was in clear view of the elevator bay. Holding his badge up, he introduced himself. "Detective Stabler, NYPD. Looking for my partner, Detective Benson."

The nurse gave him a sorrowful look then nodded her head to his right. "Thanks," he told her and headed down the hall to the waiting room the nurse pointed out.

Through the small glass window of the door he saw Olivia sitting in a chair. Just from the way her shoulders slumped – like she was carrying the weight of the world on them – he knew something was wrong. Off kilter. And suddenly a flood of concern washed through him.

The door squealed as he opened it yet, lost in her own thoughts, she did not budge. She was the only one in the room and for that Elliot was grateful because whatever was about to play out, he wanted it done in privacy.

"Liv?"

Even though she was not looking at him he could see that her makeup was a mess and that she had been crying. Fresh tears flowed down her face when he called her name. She tried to wipe them away before she looked up at him, but they were coming too freely.

"El, you were right. I…I couldn't do it," she sniffled and looked away from his again, putting her head in her hands.

"Couldn't do what?" He closed the door and stood there looking at her.

Shaking her head she squeezed her eyes shut, her fingers massaging her forehead. "Play God."

Play God? Elliot was completely confused now. "What are you talking about?"

Putting a well used tissue to her nose she used it then began to shred it. "Gladys gave me power of attorney over her baby."

"This is about _Gladys'_ baby? Not a new case?" Elliot was beginning to understand her call now. Power of attorney meant Olivia would have to make decisions for the fragile child.

"I wanted you tell me what to do. Elliot, I don't want to be responsible for what happens to her. I don't think I could live with myself if it's not the right choice," she said with a voice choked by emotion, the words rushed.

Still standing, he stared at her for a just a few more seconds and then went to sit beside her. Glancing over at him, she quickly returned to shredding the tissue.

"Liv, I can't make that decision for you. No one can. You _know_ that."

"Yes, but I needed you tell me that whatever decision I made it would be the _right_ one."

Knowing what she had said earlier and how she felt about the baby living but being damaged in some way, he knew he would not be able to give her the support she was looking for in this situation.

He sat hunched over like she was, only with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands laced together, as he quietly asked, "What's going on now?"

"Got a call from the hospital and when I got here the doctors needed me to make a decision about doing surgery or doing nothing. I couldn't do it, El. I just…I kept looking at that poor little baby and I…I didn't know what to do? Do I say yes and she lives but she is blind or paralyzed or brain damaged? Would she hate me if she were sound of mind but paralyzed or something? Do I say no and she dies? I don't want her to die. I want her to live. But I want her to experience life – laugh and love and learn and live. She's not even mine, but legally she's my responsibility now. And, I want to do what's right, Elliot. They kept pushing for an answer…I begged them to wait until you got here…"

"Olivia," Elliot's voice was soft as he drew out each syllable of her name. "I can't make the decision for you. You have to be the one to…"

"I told them to do everything they could to save her," Olivia blurted out as tears started down her face again.

Surprise mingled with an instant rush of relief and he exhaled sharply. In his mind Olivia had done the right thing; the only thing that would allow her to live with herself if the worst happened. And that should not have surprised him. Reaching around, he leaned toward her and kissed her on the top of her head, gently massaging the back of her neck for just a few seconds. That she leaned into him rather than pull away was yet another surprise. Perhaps he did not know his partner as well as he thought.

Then the door opened. She quickly pulled away as his arm slipped from her and they both stood to face the doctor in bloody scrubs with a mask hanging from her face.

"Detective," the lady doctor's eyes said everything Olivia needed to hear. The words merely confirmed it. "I'm sorry. We did all we could."

Elliot watched as Olivia eyes overflowed with tears again and his heart ached for her. This time he stretched his right arm around her and pulled her against his chest, his left arm around her waist. Her body shook and her cries were muffled against him as he stroked her face and whispered calming words to her.

"It's okay. You did the right thing, Liv. You did all you could. Shhh-shhh. You did the right thing, babe. It will be okay. You'll be okay."

Olivia was too upset to remember that they didn't do this. They did not touch like this. Once, only once had they held each other like this. And it had been nearly more than she could bear. That time had been because of a baby, too - Elliot's youngest son that Olivia had played a major role in saving upon his premature birth.

This time she had done all she could for another baby, but this time her best efforts were not enough. This time she couldn't save the child. But maybe, just maybe this time Elliot would be _her_ savior. Maybe, just maybe he could give her back the hope she had lost. Maybe he would help her make sense of it all and show her how to live with her decision and the outcome.

The steady beat of his heart quieted her own; his rhythmic breathing brought hers back into sync; his soothing words eased her guilt; his touch reminded her that he cared. Sometimes more than he should. Sometimes too much.

Elliot's mere presence would rescue her from her own demons of inadequacy, fault and failure – and wasn't that just what a savior was? A person who rescued another from harm, danger, or loss – he did all those things for her and more. He had rescued her from herself too many times to count. And he would be there now to pull her back from the brink, from the edge of insanity. Yes, he would be there for her because that's where he'd always been even if she had been too blind to see. He was right there. Right there. For her.

~eoeoeoeoeo~


End file.
